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Mystery

I should have never listened to Jim, my husband. I always liked our little cottage, just enough room for the two of us, the little fireplace crackling night after night. Watching movies together in our chairs, the warmth surrounding us. Enjoying every moment together peacefully until the night we moved houses.

Packing the final memories in a box is tough. All the memories being stashed in 4 by 4 boxes and loaded for good will. Jim says he wants to get rid of every last thing and start a new life together. Today is the day, it's final when we are moving into the mansion on seventh street. Jim bought the mansion from the state which already had all the furniture from owners before. I will never agree with the plan, I love this tiny cottage with all the memories built into the walls. But the past is the past, and we both have to move on and escape from reality. 

Pulling up to the lane is such a sight. Resting my head on the window in the truck, I can see a gate that used to guard the lane. The steel gate is covered in green vines running all the way down. Getting closer to the house, I can tell the house is in just about the same condition with vines crawling up the sides, eating the house alive. Jim makes a stop to then get out of the truck with a sigh. I climb out after him to walk to the front door. Jim grabs the key to unlock the door, but it swings open. We look at each other with confused looks, but brush it off and walk in. I step through the door, and a feeling overwhelms me. Looking out into the big space, there are lumps of what used to be white sheets covered in dust, draped over furniture. I walk over to the couch and start to pile sheets.

Hours and hours go by with sheets falling to the ground and  filling the air with dust. Finally, near sunset, Jim and I finish. I go to the kitchen and start scooping up pots and pans from the cabinets to make roast beef, Jim’s favorite meal. I turn the stove on low as I hear footsteps in the other room. I call out Jim’s name, but I do not hear a response. I march to the other room, peering through the doorway looking for my husband, but see him no where. I hear the footsteps getting louder and louder, coming up behind me, and I spin around suddenly. All I see is the air, still full of dust. “I must be going crazy, today is a long day”, I say to myself, so I head back to the kitchen to finish the meal. 

Sitting down at the table gives a feeling of relief; the two of us together again after a long day of work. I pick up the fork with steaming roast beef to fill my mouth when I start to overhear laughter of a little girl. Memories fill my head, and I snap my head up to Jim, but he keeps on eating away, not flinching an eye. I ignore the laughter and finish eating. Cleaning the table, the laughter and footsteps come again. I grab my head with frustration and trudge up the stairs, looking for where the noise is coming from. I stomp into the guest bedroom, sweeping the floor with my eyes, but don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. I sit on the bed, taking deep breaths trying to calm myself. I slowly start to get up as I hear the voice again, but this time the words are, “Mommy, daddy was the one, he did this to me.” I jump up and turn around to see Lucy peering up at me with her little eyes. It’s my little daughter who died 6 months ago. I crash to the floor, everything going black.

I sit up, my head hurting trying to picture why I’m on the ground. I look to see Lucy in the corner humming along to “You are my Sunshine,” and playing with what used to be her favorite doll. She looks up and has the biggest smile on her face getting up and running to me yelling, “Mommy mommy, you woke up from nap time!” It hits me that my daughter is back! I grab her in my arms and hug her for the longest time smelling her cherry scented shampoo, whispering to myself “how it can be?” She pulls away and looks at me with her little beady eyes, “Mommy, there was no accident. Daddy has been keeping secrets. Mommy, he got mad at me. I didn’t pick up my toys, I’m sorry I didn't listen. He came in and hit me and everything went black.” 

The words filled my head. That's why, when he walked in the door after I called him crying a terrible accident happened, he had no emotion. Left at four in the morning and did not say a word, ignoring me. He started looking for houses the day after she died, and wanted to leave after what happened that day. He wanted to move to this abandoned mansion, to get away with his murder and the reality that he killed his own daughter.

I stand up with only one intention, and take step after step down the stairs with Lucy following. I walk over to Jim who is in the chair watching tv. I grab the hammer on the end table and walk right between Jim and the tv. “You killed my baby, didn't you?” 

He stands up, staring at the hammer and calmly says my name, but in the instant, I swing the hammer at him. I hear the piercing scream of Lucy and the crunching noise of Jim crumbling to the ground. I slump on the floor next to Jim looking up, and see Lucy crying. Lucy was never meant to die, none of us were. I lay down next to him, looked up to see Jim holding Lucy in his arms, and felt my last breath escape my lungs.

November 13, 2020 01:09

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2 comments

Ari Berri
20:40 Nov 16, 2020

This story is amazing. Great job.

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Kelsey Franklin
21:29 Nov 16, 2020

Thank you!!

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